


sober thoughts, drunken hearts

by akutagi



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bokuto Koutarou Being Bokuto Koutarou, Canon Compliant, Drunkenness, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, New Year's Kiss, New Years, Olympic team - Freeform, Pining Miya Atsumu, Sakusa Kiyoomi is Bad at Feelings, Time Skips, but maybe not oooo, idk what else to tag per usual, lets be real theyre both bad, plz just taLK IT OUT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28740846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akutagi/pseuds/akutagi
Summary: “Obviously, I was drunk and got caught up in the New Year’s magic.” Shrugging his shoulders, he bit the inside of his cheek only slightly. “Nothin’ much to talk about.”Oh.“Oh,” he breathed, now feeling a tiny amount silly for theorizing about it more. He started talking with his stare ahead, locked onto the beige-painted bricks before ending on the other’s eyes. “If that’s all it was, then I suppose we’re done here.”He didn’t look away, but part of him wanted to since Sakusa’s gaze was so persecuting at times. “Guess so.”---Atsumu finally makes a move during their team's New Year's party and it goes as well as you could expect.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 116





	sober thoughts, drunken hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keigotakamis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keigotakamis/gifts).



> omg its not a bennett/ razor fic wow can you even believe it 
> 
> but this fic is a commission !! i hope you like it and that i portrayed them to your liking <3
> 
> (do not be alarmed tho i do have more benzor fics on the way hehe)

Everything was going as expected, or as much as you can anticipate with the team and their add-on guests. That was good for Sakusa, seeing as how with everything going well, both he and the year could depart as soon as midnight struck. The hitter was never one for large gatherings, only being obligated to go to this one on strict ‘team bonding’ orders. 

Yet there the team was, gathered around the thin television with the channels switching from station to station, trying to catch all the acute differences each had before the year concluded. And here he was, a few feet away and leaning on Kuroo and Kenma’s barren wall. The whole event was a headache and chore to him, but he’d get a migraine from everyone in the following month from the nagging that he didn’t show up. Weighing his options, he deduced that a five hour ordeal was better than a four month stream of unrelenting comments. 

_Could be worse,_ he pondered, swaying his drink from side to side. He would _attempt_ to make the most of not being wrapped in his covers, feeling the fake wool lining his plaid pants and overly large shirt making for comfortable pajamas. But before he could try to enjoy himself, worse incarnate would appear, innocent smile on the surface above the sinister intention behind it. Sakusa both internally and externally let out a muffled groan as he waited for the inevitable to be over with.

“Omi-Omi! Happy New Year’s!” He placed his arm along the wall for support, the other hand holding his own drink, half covering it but the part labeled ‘ _beer’_ shown through. “What are you doing by yourself? We’re supposed to be bonding as a team before the big ‘O’ word next month.” He knew exactly why he wasn’t in the eye of the germ-centered storm, partially due to that obvious but mainly because he couldn’t stand Atsumu lately. Which was saying something because he barely tolerated him ever, only now his eyes lingered longer and distance on and off the court dwindling shorter each day between them, making the hitter more aware of the blonde than ever. 

Sakusa blinked and sorted out his options on how to respond, finally trying to appear as disinterested as possible, which wasn’t hard. “You know you can say the word ‘Olympic’ right? It’s not the sports equivalent of Macbeth.”

From the corner of his eyes, he saw the setter’s cunning face dissolve and reappear with the same haunting appearance a few days back. Sakusa observed, lifting his glass to drink as something to do in contrast to standing like he was apart of the wall’s decor. His darken eyes pairing well with his demeanor, tracing over his teammate’s form without much thought as if it were a trace or daydream stare. After what felt like three New Year’s, he cleared his throat to alert him to get up. And when _that_ didn’t work, he kicked Atsumu’s slipper with his own, successfully rebooting him back to the present time.

Looking away, he regained some of the suaveness from earlier before losing it yet again. “Sorry, what did you say?” 

“How much have you had, Feather?” Atsumu wasn’t the only one verified to pass around annoying nicknames. Granted, he didn’t make it up on his own, but from a story Osamu told about how much of a lightweight his sibling could be. 

He shrugs as if he doesn’t know (which he most certainly has no recollection of) before motioning to the cluster on the sofa and recliners. “Doesn’t matter. But why don’t we go over now? Only got…” Atsumu slides out his phone only to press it back into his team jacket once he’s gotten the time. “...Six minutes left?” 

Sakusa thinks ‘ _I’d rather be asleep than scream for a number on a clock to change’_ but instead grumbles and makes his way over without Atsumu, who's trailing close behind as a shadow would. 

He’s about to plot himself in an olive seat away from the others before the hem of his shirt decides otherwise, looking to see the damn blonde drag him to the cramped and congested couch. As soon as he sits, he’s trying to stand and stalk his way over to the secluded chair before Kenma beats him to it. Everywhere else is occupied and so he makes the most of what he’s been giving, bunching his limbs in order to not touch anyone. 

The hitter looks back up at Atsumu, who's communicating to Bokuto across the room with a mix of improved charades and internally panicked gestures. He goes to say something before Kageyama and Hinata squeeze next to his left side, effectively pushing him more into Atsumu’s side. 

“10!” 

Everyone and thing is loud, overwhelmingly so. Atsumu could hear his heart pounding into his ears, hoping that the figure against him can’t feel his uneven rises in breath. 

“9!”

  
Sakusa dwells in his thoughts, tethering them on a mental seesaw. The rational part wants him to push away, go back to where he originally was seated. But the part of himself looking at Atsumu who’s looking at him as if it’s only one in the room, hell _world_ , beckons to stay. To see what comes from the intense look, even if it slightly terrifies him to not shift away.

“8!”

No one in the room seems to notice the separate dimension on the end of the couch, instead being transfixed on the screen ahead. Neither knew if they wanted another pair of eyes to latch on to them and question their positions, effectively making them split away. 

Regardless, not a single person looks over nor do they move apart from one another.

“7!”

It must be the close proximity because neither of them can find any air, making breathing a much more difficult feat to manage.

“6!”

He doesn’t blink nor protest when Atsumu reaches up with his hand, delicately picking the strands that are in front of his face, giving the setter full access to his expression. Sakusa blames his lack of discomfort on the possibility that his beverages from earlier are finally settling in, the same probably happening to the twin. 

“ _5!_ ”

The outside noise becomes more and more hollow, shrinking away second by second. However, everything is becoming too loud in their own private sector of the room. The way his chest rises shudders through the both of them, heart trapped in their ears and throats, making them both paralyzed in place.

“ _4!_ ”

Atsumu takes a deep shallow breath, adjusting himself on the cushion so that the two of them are on the same level. Some of him hopes what happens next won’t change anything, that after they can go back to normalcy. 

“ _3!_ ”

He’s not an idiot though. There’s no way they can go back to before after this.

….But would he really want to go back if they could?

“ _2!_ ”

  
The anticipation of what Atsumu is going to attempt almost eats Sakusa whole. It’s the same adrenaline he gets before a more risky set-up for a spike, almost positive it will go his way, but the what-if a high possibility in the back of his mind. 

Sakusa’s about to go head-on and confront but the words falter once Atsumu glides his fingers against his cheek, thumb making a single swipe onto his skin. 

“ _1!_ ”

It’s too much, it’s not enough. It is a warm touch, but Atsumu’s blood chills over, feeling as if no oxygen is coming in. As lame as it sounded in his own head, he’d imagined how it would feel to be kissing him more than once, but it was nothing compared to the real thing. The smallest portion of himself wanted to believe it was still an extended daydream since every brush-up and push of the lips felt like a lucid dream, but he knew that wasn’t the case.  
  
On the other end, Sakusa’s consciousness takes control and finally snaps awake to what's happening. He _knows_ he should stop it since they’re both probably tipsy out of their minds, but can’t find the will to break it yet. He didn’t care for personal touches, but the way Atsumu’s hand tenderly rubs along his arm feels like home and kiss as the exhilarated housewarming gift. 

Ultimately, as soon as it began, it finished just as fast. The two flinch away, but not before one leans forwards for only a moment, missing the fleeting sensation. Atsumu blinks before opening his mouth, this time to make an excuse and not an action. 

He can’t get a single syllable out before Sakusa slips off the seat and onto the hardwood, looking at Atsumu through another new angle. The setter reaches down towards him, saying something but no words can reach his ears. It’s too _loud_ , sensories working on overdrive with both noise and vision. The lights around are blinking in rainbow formation, switching haphazardly with the tone of the speaker blaring music instead of TV. Still, no one notices them, but Sakusa is physically and mentally grounding himself, mortified at how wrapped up his imagination led him to think this was fine. 

  
Honestly, he’s grateful no one is making any mind to the fiasco inches away from them, fixated with one another and pouring more glasses as toast. It makes it easier to sneak towards the upstairs bathroom, but not before grabbing another beer from the countertop. As he closes the door, he snaps open the lid as well as his app to pay a driver for a ride back to his apartment. 

  
Nothing was as expected anymore, and he could hear Atsumu or someone’s footsteps coming closer. He slid down the white door’s back before stopping at the floor, taking a sip of his beverage. As the sound came and finally went away, he rested his head on the frame and waited to get the hell out of this confiding space and miles away from Atsumu. 

###

He doesn’t know exactly how long his alarm is running for but does know that both it and his head were ringing. After missing a few times, he finally pressed the button with success. Even though the noise in the room ceased, his brain continued to shake and rattle.

Sakusa didn’t remember drinking too much last night, so there was no reason for him to be getting a migraine when he awoke. That was until he finally managed to push himself more on the mattress, shedding the covers around him. Seeing two smashed cans on his nightstand as well as an unopened bottle of water, medication to pair. At least some part of him was sober enough to prepare for when he finally woke up.

Eventually, the water and rounder pills helped quench the beast of a headache, but still, something stuck in his mind. He didn’t dream much, and when he did it was never as vivid. Last night’s was… something. It was so vivid and real that the thought of it made Sakusa’s heart rumble deep within himself. 

But it was only a dream. Soon he’d forget the whole plotline and carry on with his day and life as if nothing happened. Because nothing did happen, it was only a figment of the night’s imagination-

A low _‘bzzzz’_ fills the empty air, sending it straight towards the somewhat groggy hitter. Reaching for his phone, he saw a few missed texts in the team group chat as well as some meaningless notifications. Staring at the clock, he knew that time was growing shorter and that his route to practice was long, so he got ready while scrolling through. 

Most of the time none of the text was of importance or relevance, a lot being stupid images going back and forth or talking about nonsense inside jokes that Sakusa wanted no part in knowing. He’d already changed into his sleeveless crimson top, covered by a gray sweatshirt with some American logo glazed over it. Since the colder months were present, he opted to wear black sweatpants, for now, bringing shorts in his luggage in case. It wasn’t until he sipped on a glass of orange juice that he’d squirt out half the glass onto his outfit. 

_This can_ not _be real._ The more sensical conclusion was that he had fallen from his affectionate dream and into an embarrassing nightmare. Placing the glass down, effectively spilling more out of the rim, Sakusa hit his wrist hard enough that his eye squeezed closed from the impact.

Glaze venturing back over to the screen scrolling on its own caused by the onslaught of text coming in, he tapped his way back to the photos. There were a bunch, most excluding him (which Sakusa didn’t mind). However, the ones that did painted him with someone else connected with his lips. 

Half the group was reminiscing about hours earlier while a small, but vocal minority pressed about the photo’s tucked secret. 

> **_Hinata:_ **uhhh can we take a moment to talk about what the hells going on in the background?

>   
> **  
> _Bokuto:_** thats kuroo dressed in an elsa cosplay while kenma looks both disappointed and lovestruck

> **_Kuroo:_ **still have no idea where it came from or why i put it on lol
> 
> **_Kuroo:_ **gotta admit i do pull it off well ;)

> **_Bokuto:_ **you look amazing in everything you wear bro !! (ノ*゜▽゜*)

> **_Hinata:_ **no not /that/ photo !! i mean with sakusa and atsumu ?? are you guys seeing it ?!
> 
> **_Kageyama:_ **i can not decide if i want peanut butter or regular butter on my toast please send help and advice

> **_Hinata:_ **did yall shadowban me from popping up in notifs . wtf i feel like im talking to a fricken wall >:/

> ******_Kenma:_ **can someone tell me what song we were playing during karaoke and if its under copyright
> 
> **_Kenma_ **: bc if its free use bet im using it for my unboxing video this month

> **_Kageyama:_ **guys please my toast is gonna get cold :(

One thing that caught his full attention was how the other in question did not respond once. After Hinata and evenly matched in loudness with Bokuto, Atsumu was flooding the screen with grey text boxes without holding back. Sakusa could chalk it up to him still being asleep but knew that wasn’t the case, him being a much easier riser in the morning compared to the nocturnal setter. 

That was until not even a moment later the device shook and Sakusa saw how much of an idiot he could truly be. 

> **_Atsumu:_ **lol did someone photoshop some of the pics

Setting his phone down, he went to change out of the orange-scented clothes as well as take a mental leave from whatever _that_ response was. 

_Maybe he’s still a little tipsy,_ Sakusa concluded. That was the only logical response. Perhaps he was still under the influence too, because part of him wanted to go back to midnight. And the thought that a sobered him wanting to was even scarier to contemplate. 

###

He wasn’t responding to any of the text, but that was no shock to Atsumu. What _was_ surprising was that while on the phone with Bokuto, that he got a separate message a few minutes afterward.

“I can’t believe I did that…” He groaned while on speaker, body draped over his worn sofa.  
  


Bokuto, whose voice was placed on the coffee table not too far away, spoke in a more even tone. “ _Well, maybe if you’d_ listened _to what I’d originally said, then we wouldn’t be where you are.”_

“You _told_ me that I should confess on New Years!” He was flailing his arms as if he was debating with someone right in front of him and not horizontal on a cushion. Pushing a throw pillow over his face, he grumbled “ _How and why did you convince me to do that is beyond me…_ ”

In actuality, it came down to his menace with the same face, other aliases as ‘Osamu’ or ‘Pain in my ass, with a capital ‘P’’. While chatting a few weeks ago over the phone, he had suggested a very specific way to confess that just _screamed_ Osamu. As Atsumu was rebutting it, his brother had confronted and called him out saying how ‘he’d do a much messier and chaotic confession compared to his proposal’. And since Atsumu was stubborn as the sun was bright, he declared that he’d find a better way to go about things.

Then came Bokuto, who lightly suggested that maybe before the Olympics would be best, since it was all Atsumu could think about. They needed him in top condition, not only physically but mentally. And as of late, the idea and hypotheticals were at the forefront of his head instead of gameplays and moves.

And somehow this was still Atsumu’s fault for messing it up. 

“ _I said to tell him how you feel not to suck his face like an octopus!”_ There was a lull in volume and tone, becoming much more cautious of the words he chose. “ _Look, he’s how you can fix it-”_

His sentence was terminated for a moment when Atsumu’s phone rattled, making the fake plant placed on the wood shake as well. Looking at it, he could see exactly who sent it and what it was implying. It was simple and calculated, much like he was. 

> **_Sakusa:_ **Hey, could we talk before practice today? I’ll be near the water cooler until we start. 

His throat and thoughts collapsed for a moment. “Hey Bokuto, I’m gonna call you back.”

“ _Wait, what-”_

Taking a few breaths in and out, he typed a few draft responses out, erasing and adding letters and stringing words. Ultimately, he liked the text and for affirmation sent a quick “alright :)” before putting the phone down again and getting ready to head out. 

###

_Why am I so nervous? We’re just talking._ He fiddled with the zipper of his pale blue sweatshirt, this one being the only one in sight for Sakusa to use with short notice. 

He’d only been standing for maybe seven minutes at this point when Atsumu came through the doors, cold air combating with his warm spark. Sakusa decided to look down, more interested in his morphed reflection in the tiles.

“Hey.” He said after he reached a comfortable distance walk. While riding his soles, hands in pockets did he finally ask the question both had in mind. “What did you want to talk about exactly?” 

“The photos. More specifically, you and I in them.” Peering back up, he saw the blond process the obvious, cementing his spot in the ground. The space wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t exactly pleasant either. They both just waited for someone to lay the facts and come to the conclusion that satisfied both. 

“Obviously, I was drunk and got caught up in the New Year’s magic.” Shrugging his shoulders, he bit the inside of his cheek only slightly. “Nothin’ much to talk about.” 

_Oh._ “Oh,” he breathed, now feeling a tiny amount silly for theorizing about it more. He started talking with his stare ahead, locked onto the beige-painted bricks before ending on the other’s eyes. “If that’s all it was, then I suppose we’re done here.” 

He didn’t look away, but part of him wanted to since Sakusa’s gaze was so persecuting at times. “Guess so.” 

The hitter moved away first, accidentally pushing him and releasing him from his once glued feet. “See you inside then.” 

With the gym door’s closing, so did Atsumu’s mouth, not knowing it was open in order to add another comment. Yet Sakusa was inside as if nothing had happened and Atsumu was mere steps away, coming to terms about how he might have made things worse. 

Either way, no one was content with the excuse and conversation’s ending.

###

Akaashi walked through the gymnasium’s entrance anticipating a few things to transpire. However, like most things that somehow involved his fiance, nothing ever went exactly to plan. 

He expected the lot to be training and practicing for the grand showcase of competitions, everyone at the top of his game. What he got was the majority trying their hardest to be effective in movements and positions, all the while keeping in mind the strange aura surrounding two members on the court. 

Maybe three players, since Bokuto was fidgeting and face more cramped and crumbled on the sidelines. Tapping his foot, he swung his water bottle high as a stream of water poured out the lid. Once both the liquid and his head came back down, did he notice Akaashi, some of the worry sweating off him.

Handing over the brown paper bag, his hand fell back at the side of his beige trenchcoat. Giving a slight smile, Akaashi explained the context as Bokuto ripped the staple off the top, letting it dangle from the side. “I figured that you’d probably forget your lunch again today, and since I was in the area I got you a little something.” 

Thankfully it was nothing that would go bad or cold in the next coming minutes, seeing as lunch wasn’t scheduled for another hour or so. Bokuto was excited to see Akaashi, not only for the much needed for but for the advice he needed to run by.

Placing the food on the ground, he wrapped his partner tight, taking in the presence that never failed to ground him. Especially now when this fiasco felt so up in the air that his head was floating away. 

“Akaashi, you’re smart right?”

“I’ve been called that before, yes.” Rubbing small circles into his uniform, partially crinkling the fabric in the process. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Okay, before I explain, note that this is _completely_ a hypothetical and also in no way real.”

Akaashi hummed and if they were facing head-on, Bokuto could probably see the skepticism plastered all over his fiance’s face. Without any extra hesitation, Bokuto sang out the scenario in a hushed tone.

“Let’s say someone asked someone else for guidance for asking out another someone because someone else-“

Tapping on his back, Akaashi causes him to pause. At this rate, he was going to contract a migraine from trying to keep up. “Could you try and put real names to these _hypothetical_ people, for my sake?”

“Oh, uh yeah.” Chuckling a tad, he shifted so Akaashi could get a greater view and understanding of the situation. “If Atsumu asked me for advice on how to ask Sakusa out and it backfires, what would you suggest to fix it?”

Peering over his shoulder, he saw the setter fumbling to get a masterful set, each was fine but definitely not on his best level. A few steps away was Sakusa, again doing great compared to anyone besides their normal plays since his power was definitely depleted.

He speaks before his mind can think more of alternate options. “Obviously, the first would be to talk.”

“Have you met them?” 

“No, they’re hypothetical.” Both split and laughed near each other, then Akaashi leaned in once more to give a considerate kiss on the cheek. “I got to get back to the office, but I have faith in you and your ‘made-up’ scene.” 

Waving him off, Bokuto turns back to the two players who act like magnets, sometimes pulling and other times flipping to repel. Sighing, he sees the ginger hitter and Karasuno boyfriend high five after a successful combo. 

_That could work,_ he thinks before heading back into the madness of practice. 

###

He was give or take five steps away from his car, practically feeling the freedom produced by the keys swirling around his finger and tapping against his palm.

The hitter was stopped in his tracks, car handle just in reach when he felt pressure working against him. The once loose strap was now burning an imprint onto his shoulder. Sakusa turned and spoke with his harsh eyes instead of words. ‘ _What the hell are you doing?’_

Hinata was staring right back, not shying away under the heat. He looked as though he was trying to remember a speech prepared much earlier, body moving with the bag. “Uh, I need your help, Sakusa.”

“Can it wait for tomorrow?” He clicked the button on his car, signaling that the doors were unlocked and that his way home was mere inches away. “I’m tired from practice.” _You know that’s not all that’s making you burned out,_ a voice slithered in, hitter having difficulty wrangling it away. 

“N-No!” The ginger shut his eyes, held onto the bag harder and made Sakusa’s feet stumble for stability. “It’s urgent. I just… follow me.” Before he could even process, Hinata was running back towards the building, leaving Sakusa with a choice. 

He ultimately made the wrong one, since this route required more steps away from his exit home and through the entrance yet again. Despite passing all the blank walls and empty halls each day, he had no idea where this emergency was or where they were being led to. Sakusa was about to protest and confront him on the matter when they halted altogether, his chest slightly plumbing into Hinata’s back. 

Pointing to the door, he spoke in a hushed manner, as if one loud word was enough to set an alarm off. “It’s in here.” 

Keeping with the hushed tone, he asked for confirmation on the details. “The emergency… is in the bathroom?” He knew Hinata had some awkward encounters in the rest area during his time, but enough to warrant him on a wild race after a heavy day of practice? Turning to leave, another pull and tear made him stay for an additional moment. 

“ _Wait_. J-Just, um, there’s a bug.” Hinata was on the balls of his feet, clearly trying hard to stand still, which wasn’t uncommon. Even so, Sakusa could feel something in the air crumble its weight onto them both.

“Is there actually a bug in the bathroom, Hinata? Or are you trying to pull something on me?” Sakusa wasn’t in the mood to play any senseless game, nevermind today when the last thing he wanted was to stay in a greasy germ-ridden toilet.

“No! There is something you need to squash in the bathroom!” Opening his mouth to rebut the claim, Hinata swung the door open and pushed him inside where he heard a loud metal click follow soon after. 

Peering up, he heard the sound of Hinata’s feet drifting farther and quicker away, before realizing who else was left in the rest area. _Just my luck he’d be in here too._

Leaning up against the sink was a cunning smile and fidgeting hand tapping the top of the porcelain rim. “Which one trapped you in here with me?”

“Could you not hear Hinata outside?”

“Ah, so it was Hinata was it?” Sakusa nodded, not wanting to echo himself. “Kageyama ‘accidentally’ checked me into the bathroom before locking it shut. I was wondering where the fun in that was, but… I guess I understand it now.”

_Hold on a minute._ “Wait… locked?” Those two weren’t that dumb were they right. Right?

“You need somewhere to be?” Atsumu asked, seeing as how the other was evaluating the situation out of body. 

Flashing back, he shook his head to both restart and answer. Technically no one _was_ expecting him, but he wasn’t prepared to be stuck in a cramped space with the blond.

“They wouldn’t lock us in the bathroom.”

Taking a step closer, his eyes went half lid. “You wanna bet?”

_Why not take a bet I know I’m going to win? Make the most of the situation._ “$20 says no.”

Straightening up, he chuckled low to himself. “And this winner of said $20 says _yes._ ”

Making a few steps over the white tiles, the knob turned slightly until it stopped. Sakusa didn’t turn until the laughter became both bearable and tame. 

His hand was out and soon a bill was placed inside, Sakusa holding his breath. “Thank you.” This time leaning against the wall, his reflection stared back at him as he spoke. “What should we do in the meantime?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he decided to pull out his phone and text for anyone to help them escape. But then remember they were in the older and less-renovated part of the building, meaning that there was “No service”.

“It’s crap on my end too…” The atmosphere became more chilled yet ignited. It was obvious both wanted to talk about the photo and the chat from earlier, yet too stubborn to mention it first.

They both lasted a few seconds of silence before Atsumu walked into the green-plated stall. Sliding the door shut, the hitter assumed he was doing what the bathrooms were designed for, though soon found out that was not the case as Atsumu began to call him over. “Omi…”

It was almost as if he was a wounded animal that wanted to pretend the cuts and bleeding didn’t exist, voice hush and somber.

Making his way over, he was close enough that he wasn’t against the metal door, but so Atsumu could see at least the fronts of his feet. Sakusa didn’t make a signal to speak and so Atsumu began.

“I lied… earlier this morning.” Under the door’s crack, Sakusa’s sneakers shifted only slightly. “About being drunk. I, uh, I didn’t drink anything that night.”

_What?_ He could feel his heart start to race a tad, disappointed that he couldn’t see the setter’s face and confirm he was lying. “But your can said it had alcohol?”

“What?” The word echoed, both it and him bouncing off the wall, stepping further to Sakusa. “ _Oh._ No, it said non-alcohol, but I must have been covering it up…”

Sakusa tapped his foot as if to say ‘ _What next?’,_ subconsciously crossing his hands across his chest.

Clearing his throat of all the pressure and tightness his anxious brain was pushing onto him, he decided to explain again. “So what happened on the sofa, that was all sober. I-I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable with it and me.”

Sakusa didn’t know how to process it all, so he still attempted to play vain. “W-Why are you telling me all of this through a filthy bathroom door?”

He couldn’t see through, but he could tell Atsumu’s hands were held tight into fists as he pressed out the words in a hushed scream. “ _Because if I don’t tell you now I don't know if I ever will!”_ Calming down, Sakusa could hear him racing to catch a breath. “And I-I can’t do it with you looking at me and solely me. So, this is what I need.”

He nodded before remembering that he was unable to see the action. “Okay.” 

“Thanks.” A shallow breath cane through the both of them, ready for what seemed like the inevitable. 

Sakusa would tell him that no, this didn’t have to change everything and that he didn’t want to exile him-

“I like you, like, a shit ton.” 

_Wait, what…?_

“I-I don’t know when _exactly_ it started. I mean I have guesses, but nothing definite-“

_Hold on._

“and that doesn't really matter, right? You don’t have to say anything. Or, return the feelings… That’s not what this is about.”

_What do you want?_

“We can totally just forget about it if you want, strictly teammates. I won’t even try to press the whole ‘friend’ label if you don’t want me to-“ 

_… What do I want?_

Without falter and full of conviction, he ordered him. “Open the door, Atsumu.”

“Wha-“

“Open. The door.” If he had to repeat himself one more time, then he’d just prefer to burst the hinges off itself.

The click came and went, steps backward so that the door wouldn’t swing back. As Sakusa entered, he looked for any indication that Atsumu was uncomfortable. He wasn’t looking at him for starters, plus ever move forwards for the hitter was another stumble back for the setter. Eventually, they came to a standstill as Atsumu’s heels hit the toilet bowl.

“Atsumu, I’m going to kiss you now, if that’s alright.” 

His eyes scoured the small space for words to use before ultimately nodding with shocked happiness.

In both opinions, they thought the second time around was better. It was delicate, neither wanting to press too hard or mess up again. Atsumu places both arms around his waist, finding it sweet when Sakusa breathes out a laugh onto his lips. Sakusa decides haphazardly to snake one arm around the back of his neck and play with the tiny hairs there, making Atsumu giggle as he presses a kiss onto his birthmark. 

After pulling apart, hands still pressed onto backs, did Atsumu let out a shaky sentence. “So… what does _this_ mean?”

Shrugging, he gave out a more stable and blunt response. “Whatever you’d want it to be.”

“We could always go on a date… see where it goes?”

Nodding, he motioned for the bathroom stall door, then the outside one. “We should probably get out of here then.”

“But isn’t it locked?”

“Oh, right.” Putting his hand out, he then asked a ridiculous command. “$40 dollars.” 

Eyes and jaw unhinging, Atsumu cried out. “ _What?!”_

“I want my $20 back, plus you need to pay me for the bet.”

Stunned, he tried to rationalize it externally. “But you said that the handle was locked-“

Before he could even finish, the door turned open with Sakusa’s touch, deceiver giving a partially devious smile. “I lied.” 

_You are unbelievable in every sense of the word._ Feeling his pockets. He tried to scoop out his personal change before turning up nothing. “It must be in my other pair.”

Nodding, he kept going to leave, putting Atsumu behind. Sliding his hands in his pockets, he thought he was speaking to himself, but the other heard somehow. “Then you can treat on the first date.”

_First, you say?_ Upping his steps, he teased the other. “Wait, does that mean we’re going on another one, Omi-Omi?”

Rolling his eyes, he discreetly decreased his pace for Atsumu to match him in the hall. Whichever way the teasing went, both were thinking the same thing. _I’d like there to be more than just two._

**Author's Note:**

> still taking commissions for the rest of january !!
> 
> @akutagi on twt


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